


Didn't Deserve

by damndamedrezi



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, emotionally repressed bobbleheads, help they're both tsunderes, i could write these two flirt-bickering all day tbh, smol amount of agnst, vague refrence to sexual acts is the reason for the T rating, very smol refrence to suicidal feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damndamedrezi/pseuds/damndamedrezi
Summary: Maxwell does his best for Wilson on the most inane and foolish of holidays: Valentine's Day.Happy Valentine's Day 2021!
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Didn't Deserve

**Author's Note:**

> i reference this little klei comic in the story: http://assets.kleicdn.com/DST/valenwes.png

"'Wood' you look at that, I'm out of planks! Again!" Wilson paced around his strange contraption. Dark bags contrasted the lips that were so bright red from his nervous biting habit.

"Perhaps virtues like 'patience' or 'frugality' would have come in hand?" Maxwell asked carefully eating a simple meal of pierogis with a fork and knife.

Wilson only gave a quick irritated glance, showing Maxwell how disheveled his hair was. That would need to be put right. The scientist bent over his machine to bang a hammer on something internal, giving Maxwell a view that was quite right. "You know," the scientist's voice was echoing in the chamber, "your highness, you could help me out here."

"Ah, but this is like the old times. You crawling around foolishly and hopelessly and myself enjoying a show." Maxwell smirked, waiting for Wilson to turn around to really play it up. However, Wilson kept hammering, quite used to Maxwell. This however would not do for the former king who placed his fork down and motioned for one of his shadow puppets to give a playful slap to Higgsbury's bottom. He startled and hit his head on the top of the device.

"Maxwell!" Wilson turned around blushing and Maxwell gave him a devilish smirk that didn't need to be played up because it was all too genuine. "How about we really make it like old times, and I keep you sitting down by breaking your kneecaps!" he waved the hammer around with bloodshot eyes.

"Pal, you need a break," Maxwell said more seriously, noticing the more than usual neurotic energy of his partner.

"Do you want indoor plumbing? Cause I know you want indoor plumbing. And I am so close to a breakthrough!" Other than some clay pipes, the device did not resemble any kind of plumbing Maxwell had ever seen. Maxwell knew Wilson had a secret project, and was deeply interested in finding out more, but this did not appear to be it.

"Wilson. Your pierogis are getting cold. Take a break. I will procure extra logs for you."

Wilson put his hand in his messy hair and sighed, "Fine. I just really want this to work." He grabbed the second plate of pierogis and sat on the same wooden log as Maxwell. "And don't sneak me any wood past Wickerbottom, she's right, I use too much and the camp needs whatever you gather." Wilson scarfed down the food with his bare hands.

"Hmmph. Well, I want to get you extra wood, as well as a fork," Maxwell said handing one to Wilson, who took it grudgingly but smiling. "I need to plant a whole entire forest this afternoon," he complained, "I might as well get a few extra logs while I do so."

"Only you would complain about the easiest task ever, you don't even bother to do it orderly."

"I value my time and mental energy over precisely planted _lumber_ ," with a plan in mind Maxwell asked, "Should I put it next to the farm?" He had strongly suspected that Wilson's secret project was buried somewhere. He always sneaked off with a shovel and returned with more dirt under his nails than he had left with.

"Too close, treeguards," Wilson said without much emotion before continuing to chomp.

"Warly worked hard on those, take time to chew and enjoy your food." Maxwell berated and Wilson just glared back with his cheeks full like a squirrel in autumn. Maxwell blotted his lips with a handkerchief then set his plate to the ground. He started detangling the scientist's hair in hopes he would look a bit less like a squirrel. A comb was useless and would just get stuck.

When he finished chewing, he said, "My body needs nutrients, proteins, and fats to keep doing science. The luxury of tasting is one I do not have. But I'm sure I will enjoy whatever Warly's teaching you to make."

"Who said what he is teaching me has anything at all to do with you?" Maxwell pulled harshly at a knot and a small "ow!" was heard.

"Because despite all your snark and glowering and posturing," Wilson looked into the eyes of the man combing his hair, mouth thankfully bereft of food at the moment, "you're a romantic at heart." Warly's lessons were directly related to the meal he was going to make for the Valentine's Day date, but he was planning it so his debt to Wilson would be lessened, and not because he was a romantic.

Maxwell's face twisted into incredulity, but he barely composed himself before replying, "Wilson. Do you think because I am entertaining myself in your tent instead of by sending hounds after you, that I am a romantic?"

"There are facts you are not considering," Wilson grinned, "You must take into account that you spend about- I haven't done the math in a while so it's no longer totally accurate- 92% of your evenings sitting next to me. You share a tent with me on 62% of your nights and of that 62% we only engage in sexual relations 30% of the time. And for qualitative evidence, there's the fact that you are grooming me, a bonding ritual among primates."

Maxwell didn't interrupt because he didn't know what to say, and the man with an opinion on everything didn't know what to say because he didn't know why he found the scientist's bizarre and outrageous knowledge cute. Cute in a very creepy yet compellingly attractive way. "I'm combing your hair because I hate to look at disasters."

With a knowing look Wilson replied, "Ah yes, that is why you can't be assed to plant trees in a row. You just like things being neat and orderly too much."

"I will plant them as I always have, as I please. Perhaps I will plant them in the western meadow? The MacTusk savannah? By the frog ponds? By the graveyard?"

Wilson's confidence broke and he hurriedly said, "Hey, maybe not in that savannah. MacTusks could come back you know, and it could be dangerous." Ah, this is what Maxwell had been fishing for, it appeared Wilson didn't want him digging up the savannah?

"Science says they should be gone by now," Maxwell mocked.

"Errr....science is unpredictable? They could still be there? I think the graveyards maybe? All the ghosts there are dead....well...deader than dead. Probably for good"

"Sure pal," Maxwell agreed causing a visibly relieved Wilson.

\---

Maxwell had eventually finished detangling the scientist’s hair. Then Wilson thanked Maxwell with a kiss "because you know I like my hair looking nice but sometimes I get too much in my head to comb it." Maxwell did know that. There was no real reason he kept replaying the memory in his head after they both returned to work. Maxwell did what he said he was going to do (he'd promised Wilson no more lies) and planted the new forest in the graveyard, quite enjoying the cyclic irony of it. Of course, he still had other things to do before returning to camp.

Primarily, he had to ensure finishing touches on the spot for their date. It was to be in the caves, right under crevice that would let the moonlight in. Maxwell walked around holding a lantern above his head to imitate it so his shadow clones could place everything perfectly, good lighting was important for any event. He had a crockpot, proper decoration, a soft bedroll for later activities, chairs and a table from the ruins, and a gentle rustling of an underground stream not far away. The last item had only taken a little bit of dark magic. He reread the poem in his pocket, and after a quick edit he knew it was as good as it was going to get.

He returned to the surface once he was confident last year's debacle was not going to be repeated. Valentine's Day was a stupid holiday and Wilson had agreed. But, he was not going to owe Wilson more than he already did.

He started walking towards the savannah to complete his second task of investigating Wilson's secret experiment. His thoughts regrettably turned to Valentine's Day on his journey.

The mime had started it on their second year together, passing out anonymous love notes. Maxwell had many suspects at who had given him one, Higgsbury being one of them. He mentioned the idea to Wickerbottom who revealed that she had also received one. Maxwell left to observe the camp from afar to deduce the mystery when Wilson stormed into camp calling him "a pervert and a repressed coward who couldn't just say his feelings to my face." The resulting conversation did result in the duo being more open about their feelings for each other, but it didn't need to be forced out by some stupid notes. Damn clown.

Unlike their campmates, he and Wilson had forgone doing anything special on the third and fourth years. On the fifth year, Wilson had gone and surprised him like a traitor.

_"Happy Valentine’s Day!" Wilson ran up to him with a small box in hand, in the middle of camp._

_"Excuse me?"_

_"You are excused my dear grumpy sir, now take your gift!" Wilson shoved the box towards him, but he made no move to take it._

_"Higgsbury, I thought we agreed we were not taking part in this nonsense? Are you as deaf as the mime is mute?"_

_Wilson put the gift behind his back and swooped in to be chest to chest Maxwell. The hand not holding the gift held Maxwell's cheek, but with an edge. "My dear, you won't let me get you gifts and do nice things for you," Wilson whispered. "What was I to do?"_

_Maxwell growled lowly, "I don't need your gifts, I am already indebted to you, is that what you want to hear? Because I can't think of any other reason for this farce."_

_"I do this because I love you, I don't care about the stupid debt counter you have in your head," Wilson growled back._

_Maxwell replied lowly but no longer a growl, "Well I won't accept it." He attempted to pull away, but the younger man wrapped both arms around him and used his greater physical strength and lower center of gravity to keep Maxwell in place._

_"Ohoho, but you will. Wes would be heartbroken to see you reject his holiday in the middle of camp, and you don't want to disappoint him any more than you already have. Wendy already doesn't believe in love and this would solidify it. And Winona? She'll beat you to the ground for being a 'heartbreaker'." How was the tone-blind Wilson so adept at reading him and others in the worst possible moments? Maxwell sighed and rolled his eyes._

_Wilson presented the gift in front of him. "Now open your gift!" he said cheerfully but with cocky knowing eyes that made Maxwell's knees feel a tad weak._

_He opened the wooden box and inside were neatly packaged cigars. Maxwell had created a way to get nicotine in this world, but the process was complicated and even more so under Wickerbottom's judging eyes. He was happy to get his fix, but furious at how he got it._

_Through gritted teeth and thoughts swirling through his head about how to dominate the man in bed later Maxwell replied, "Truly a wonderful gift darling."_

So, lost in thought, Maxwell had barely noticed arriving in the savannah. He set out his shadow clones to look for any signs of digging. False positives and missed clues were possible, but at the advance of the sun setting he had little choice.

A shadow eventually reported a suspicious spot and sure enough after a few piles of dirt were dug off a small chest was found. He opened it with excitement to find a collection of toys? In the box was a note that read:

_Dear Maxwell,_

_I know you're missing some of the tools you used in your act. I hope these are good substitutes given what I had to work with. Happy Valentine’s Day._

_Forever Yours,_

_Wilson Percival Higgsbury_

He felt a conflicting volatile mix of emotions at the "forever". It was obvious he was not meant to read this note or see this box yet, Wilson generally adorned his cards with calligraphy and nature art. Maxwell was beyond feeling guilt for a small thing like finding this early.

The box was filled with a number of tricks. There was a lovely deck of cards, he was having trouble figuring out how Wilson got such a nice protective coating on them. There were trick coins and rings, Wilson must have listened carefully when he explained how they worked. There were small cups obviously geared for that old scam. A lovingly woven square of silk was present, the detail work was finer than he'd ever seen Wilson make.

This was an amazing gift! Maxwell was furious, this was way better than a silly dinner and cheesy poem. Maxwell sighed clutching the square of cloth. Why was this man so damn good to him? Was he ever going to be out of debt with a man that could toil through his sarcasm but still give him a perfect gift? He somberly placed the silk back and reburied the box.

Maxwell walked back to camp with his hands in his pocket. The darkness grew and he knew he should hurry his steps, but he did not want to return to camp before he collected his thoughts. He considered pulling away from Wilson, but that never worked. He always come back. He didn't deserve this kindness, this goodness. "Didn't deserve" Maxwell laughed. It's what he cried out over and over again once he was trapped on the throne. And again, once he realized what had happened to Charlie. It's what Wilson sobbed into the cold hard ground on his first few lives. Those tears were Maxwell's fault and Wilson sought comfort, warmth, and love from him still. Fool. But he couldn't call him a fool. After all, he had saved Maxwell and the entire camp multiple times due to his wit and persistence.

He saw the campfire in the distance, he would be there soon. What choice did he have but to give into Wilson's folly? They couldn't get rid of each other. Maxwell wasn't going to venture off into the wilderness alone, he had no death wish anymore. Yet staying here, there was no way he could shake off the scientist's enamor with him. Perhaps what people deserved just didn't matter. It was something he knew, but in the context of being treated lovingly it was bizarre. It stirred something in Maxwell. The last time he'd felt like this had been in the aftermath of passion with the scientist. Strange to feel it in the somber dusk with nothing but his thoughts.

He was close enough to see that big curly hair, looking shadowy from the bright roar of the fire. Wilson was chatting animatedly with a feminine figure. From the looks of things, Maxwell was the last to return home today.

Maxwell walked up from Wilson and Willow noticed him first and said, "Damnit, I was betting that you got killed by bees again."

Maxwell looked at Wilson adoringly as his hair flopped around and nervous eyes met the magician's. "I'm glad you didn't! You need to warn us if you're going to be late coming back."

Instead of a sarcastic remark Maxwell simply sat on the same log as Wilson and wrapped an arm over him. Not taking his eyes off Wilson he mumbled to Willow, "I avoided them this time."

"Maxwell, what's going on?" Wilson said more worried than before. Public displays of affection weren't something that happened between them often. Maxwell didn't often gaze like a lovestruck boy either.

"Nothing love," he grinned, "I just like looking at you." He let out a small laugh as well.

Wilson glared. "What are you planning Maxwell?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," he let out a louder laugh.

"Uh-huh. Whatever it is, I'm wise to your tricks. You won't get me, so you might as well just tell me." Willow rolled her eyes and walked away, but Maxwell certainly didn't notice.

"I told you," he grinned even bigger like Lucifer himself, but soft somehow, "There are no tricks."

"So then why were you so late coming back?"

"I was finishing preparations for our date tomorrow." He wanted to thank Wilson for his Valentine gift, for forgiving him, for loving him. But he didn't want to ruin Wilson thinking it was a surprise.

"Oh no. What do you have planned? This is going to be so chaotic isn't it?"

Maxwell laughed, throatier this time. He was unable to hide his glee, like when he got his first round of applause in America (before realizing it was sarcastic). "No, it will be quite tame, and I do believe you will enjoy it." Maxwell couldn't deny that he was teasing Wilson at this point nor that the scientist was adorable when he was being teased. He was so earnest and desperate for the truth still when a normal man would have realized he would never get it.

"How do you define 'tame' in this instance,"

"Just a normal dinner with some nice ambiance and a poem for you." Maxwell stroked Wilson's cheek with his free hand, and the scientist leaned into it.

"No surprise I wouldn't like?" Wilson asked disbelievingly.

"None."

"You're sure?"

"I think I know you well enough pal to say you will thoroughly enjoy the evening." Maxwell kissed the smaller man's forehead.

Wilson's long face looked up at him looking strongly suspicious. His pointed nose was furrowed with skepticism and red from the cold in a most adorable fashion. "Then it's something else then. You came from the east yet the last few times you were working on our date you came from the south."

"I am not scheming anything," Maxwell chuckled.

"That is the last thing I would ever believe, King of Shadows."

"Hmmm. Everyone is entitled to their personal beliefs," Maxwell lifted Wilson's head up into a warm sensual but brief kiss. "Mine is that I love you." Maxwell would return to his grouchier self over the course of the evening, but for now he enjoyed a rare feeling of childish pure warmth.

"I love you too," Wilson replied with narrowed eyes meeting Maxwell's lovestruck ones.

**Author's Note:**

> basically this was inspired by me accidentally finding my valentines gift early, then getting really giggly and smiley, and my partner was just like.what. are.you.planning. and refused to believe i wasnt up to something.


End file.
